


Inspiration

by Blink_Blue



Series: Things Unemployed Oliver does on his Laptop [2]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Crack, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Porn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor comes home and catches his boyfriend in an embarrassing moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inspiration

Oliver jumps nearly a foot out of his seat when he hears the front door open. The panic that courses through him is instantaneous, and not a second later, he’s slammed his laptop shut with a _bang_ so loud he’s afraid he might have damaged the screen.

Connor gives him a strange look from the doorway as he slowly steps closer. His eyebrows are raised so high they nearly disappear into his hairline. “What’s going on, Ollie?”

“N-nothing,” Oliver stutters as he pushes his computer an inch away. He shrugs his shoulders, refusing to meet the other man’s gaze. He knows he’s not exactly being inconspicuous. And not that he _really_ has anything to be ashamed of, but he still can’t help but be embarrassed.

Connor watches him skeptically as he sets his bag on the armchair and plops onto the couch next to his boyfriend. “You’re not applying to Stanford, are you?” He asks with a grin.

Oliver rolls his eyes. “No, don’t be ridiculous.”

Connor laughs as he scoots closer. “I’m not the one being ridiculous. Come on, what don’t you want me to see?” He narrows his eyes and takes a better look at the other man. Oliver’s wearing an old, worn t-shirt. One of his favorites that he doesn’t wear out ever. He’s got on his most comfortable pair of grey sweatpants. And he sits, with his bare feet crossed, hair clearly unwashed, looking extremely uncomfortable under Connor’s sharp gaze.

Connor’s eyes swing over to the closed computer on Oliver’s lap and the pieces suddenly fall into place. 

“Oh my god, were you watching porn?!”

The red that graces the tips of Oliver’s ears tells him all he needs to know, and he subsequently bursts into loud, side-aching peals of laughter.

Oliver groans at his boyfriend’s reaction and reaches to his side for a pillow to smack the other man with. “You were at work all day! And I was bored…”

“Oh my _goodness!”_ Connor manages to say in between gasps. “ _Porn?!_ How absolutely  _scandalous,_ Oliver! I ought to call your _mother!”_ He shakes his head in mock disapproval, still grinning from ear to ear. “Imagine that, a young guy such as yourself, watching _porn._ You should be ashamed of yourself, Ollie. 

“Shut up,” Oliver grumbles.

Connor finally stops giggling and settles back onto the sofa, out of breath. “Me at work all day, only to come home to find you watching porn,” he lets out another laugh. “You need to find a job, Ollie.”

“I have a job _in mind,”_ Oliver says pointedly.

The grin quickly slips from Connor’s face. He shifts to face the other man, eager to change the subject. “So what were you watching?”

Oliver gives him a weird look. “I was watching porn.”

“But like, what _kind_ of porn?”

“I don’t know, the standard stuff!”

“Can I see?” Without waiting for an answer, Connor reaches for the other man’s computer, and lifts the screen. The few sputters of disapproval from Oliver do little to deter him. The screen quickly jumps to life, and Connor’s eyes widen at the video frozen in frame. It doesn’t go unnoticed that one of the men in the video bears a striking resemblance to himself. 

Oliver watches him nervously as Connor tilts his head to one side, trying to comprehend what’s happening on the screen. 

“Oh my.”

Oliver cringes, both internally and externally. And he’s about to grab his laptop back, burn it to smoldering pieces, and act like this never happened, when Connor–forever brilliant, never-had-a-bad-idea-in-his-life Connor–decides to unpause the video.

In reality, the volume wasn’t turned up all that loud. But when the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and obnoxious, cringe worthy, over-the-top cries of pleasure filter through his laptop speakers, he thinks maybe the entire floor can hear it. A moment passes, neither of them say a word. And Oliver finally sneaks a peak at the other man. 

For the first time in their relationship, it appears that Connor may have been stunned speechless, which is quite a feat in itself.

“W-what uh–what um–” Connor’s mouth gapes like a fish for several seconds before he closes it and tries again. “Is–is this… is this something… you’d like me to do to you?”

“W-well, I–I mean…” Oliver stutters and stumbles over his response, before eventually settling for a shrug of his shoulders.

Connor finally manages to pull his eyes away from the screen. “Is this… something… you’d like to do to me?”

Oliver glances up at him. Something electric passes between them when their eyes meet. Connor closes the computer with a snap, and just manages to slip it onto the coffee table right as Oliver tackles him with a hungry kiss. The older man’s weight pushes him back onto the couch. His hands are all over him, sliding up his torso, buried in his hair, pulling at his belt…

Connor moans when Oliver’s lips finally release him to latch onto his neck. “Are you ah–” He breaks off in a gasp when Oliver palms him through the front of his pants. “Feeling inspired?”

“It’s given me a few ideas,” Oliver murmurs into his skin. 

“We uh… we don’t have the _equipment_ for that.”

“We’ll make do,” Oliver growls.

The metal of his belt buckle makes a jangle when Oliver gets it undone. He goes for the button and zipper next, before slipping his hand inside his boxer briefs. Connor whines–loudly–the sound is partially muffled by Oliver’s lips over his own. Oliver strokes him slowly, until he’s achingly hard, and thrusting his hips into Oliver’s hand. 

His eyes fly open when Oliver’s hand suddenly leaves him. Oliver’s glancing down at his groin, his hard cock sticks out of his boxer briefs, demanding attention. 

Oliver grabs his belt buckle, gives it a firm tug and pulls it out in one swooping motion. “Bedroom. Now.” He growls.

Connor raises an eyebrow.

Oliver gives the leather belt in his hand a shake. “We’ll be using this.” He grabs Connor by the front of his shirt, pulling them both to their feet, and dragging them in the direction of their bedroom.

Connor grins as he stumbles behind him, eager to find out what other ideas Oliver had gotten while he’d been gone all day.

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


End file.
